


Without You

by Lanna Michaels (lannamichaels)



Category: LOTRPS
Genre: April Showers Challenge 2011
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-09-06
Updated: 2003-09-06
Packaged: 2017-10-18 15:09:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/190163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lannamichaels/pseuds/Lanna%20Michaels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Songfic to Here Without You by Three Doors Down. My original notes are all facepalm over this, too.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Without You

**Author's Note:**

> Songfic to Here Without You by Three Doors Down. My original notes are all facepalm over this, too.

  
Viggo had eight playbills from Macbeth, none of them signed. One of them had been affixed to a canvas with peanut butter and painted over until nothing was left but the tip of Sean's nose. He didn't let himself think he was covering it up. He was just...modifying what wasn't there.

  
 _A hundred days have made me older  
Since the last time that I saw your pretty face _

  
The second was on the bathroom mirror for easy masturbation glances. Viggo had lost count of the time he thanked his parents for not giving him the need for corrective lenses as he leaned out of the door to stare at Sean, hot water scalding him, turning his skin stop-light red.

Third was above the stove so Sean was watching over him as he cooked and baked and basted something or other that would only turn out edible because Viggo had scrawled 'set the timer' right under Sean's eyes.

  
 _But all the miles that separate  
They disappear now when I’m dreaming of your face _

  
Fourth was ripped apart and stuck inside his wallet so he could sneak glances at it while on the subway, or talking with his agent, or on location. No matter where he went, Sean was with him. It was comforting in an over-all stalkery sort of way. Viggo figured Sean wouldn't approve, but Sean didn't have to know. There were a lot of things Sean didn't know. But he'd find out soon, Viggo promised himself. Once the run was over, once Sean had some spare time, once Viggo could get away from all his fucking obligations, once they had a moment of time free.

New Zealand had been entirely too idyllic. False hopes. Of course they couldn't always be together. Of course life happened. But that didn't mean Viggo had to like it.

  
 _I’m here without you, baby, but you're still on my lonely mind  
I think about you, baby, and I dream about you all the time _

  
Fifth was on the dashboard of his car, sliding around as Viggo went about his day. It was ripped, it was torn, and rain had splattered on the cover once when Viggo'd forgotten to close his window and gusts had brought drops onto Sean's cheeks and chin, falling over his hands and into the billing.

Sixth was taped to Sean's chair in the dining room. Viggo hated eating alone and so always set Sean's place for him, complete was silverware and napkin, and then cleaned it up when he was done. The playbill winked and smiled at him the way Sean did while flirting under the watchful eyes of reporters. The playbill understudied for Sean and it would have to be enough. For now. Just until Viggo had time free to grab another plane out to London, had enough presence of mind to buy a ticket in advance and not have to phone Sean to talk to the box office people, enough stubtly to surprise Sean one night when he was tired and needed to be taken to bed and tucked in by an expert tucker-inner.

Until then, it'd have to do.

  
 _I’m here without you, baby, but you're still with me in my dreams  
And tonight it’s only you and me _

  
The seventh was stuck in Viggo's overnight bag, still in between boxers and loafers, from where Viggo had tossed it before getting fucked by a very randy Sheffield boy. That had been a good night. By Lady Macbeth's death, Sean had been having problems walking. Viggo figured that it hadn't helped that he was sitting in the front row, center, where Sean could see him openly touching himself, stroking himself through his suit pants. Later, said pants and his Wilde screenprint tee had ended up in a ball on the floor of Sean's bedroom before dinner and Sean had snuck away two hours later to bring Viggo dessert in bed, mischief clearly written on his face.

With permanent marker.

And, later, with whipped cream and chocolate sauce.

  
 _Everything I know, and anywhere I go  
It gets hard but it won’t take away my love _

  
It had been a while since Viggo had a chance to dash off on the next plane to England. Fuck, they hadn't even spoken in a while. The time difference was cruel and Hidalgo was no picnic. Method acting didn't quite hold when one was thrown from one's horse. Aragorn he was not.

But the memory of Sean was enough, enough to get him through the day, and that's what mattered.

As for the eighth, the eighth was in his bed. Saving a place for Sean.

 _I’m here without you, baby, but you're still on my lonely mind  
I think about you, baby, and I dream about you all the time  
I’m here without you, baby, but you're still with me in my dreams  
And tonight, girl, it’s only you and me _  
   
 


End file.
